


unconditionally

by alternatedunham



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatedunham/pseuds/alternatedunham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clone Club shows up at Alison's door. </p>
<p>"They love her. It’s so odd - her damaged clone heart does not want to believe it. But while some let the word 'love' fall from their lips like they know where to find it in abundance, some release it with gentleness, the appropriate slowness, and Alison feels the sincerity, even if she hasn't fully accepted it yet."</p>
            </blockquote>





	unconditionally

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! I'm actually really proud of myself for finishing this. I've attempted several Orphan Black fics over the past couple of months, but never completed any, though I could easily blame my lack of writing this year on personal issues (yay for learning the 'don't fall for a straight girl' lesson the hard way). Anyways, that's not important. I'm just really, really glad this is finished, if on the short side.
> 
> List of Clone Club members whose names were mentioned (sidenote: if your name wasn't mentioned, either tumblr ate the message or I'm not following you on tumblr, the latter being more likely. I'm not following nearly as many Orphan Black blogs as I should be), tumblr url then name: henriettasbishops (me! ellie!), sestrahood-like-no-other (Jordann), phoebebuffays (Havi), thegayvagenda (Jenna), andiloveyoukate (Ellie), cptnbeckett (Amy), fringie (Rebecca), tinytmas (Maria), geneticallyidenticals (Audrey), sharkodactyl (Natalie), prolethean (Clark), consp1racy (Michelle), i-effed-it-all-up (Shelby), glassesanddreads (Steve), soccercopping (Devon), puppyniehaus (Jessie), cozniehaus (Sami), lionsarah (Bianca), tatsrathat (Shelby), jennfitzsimmons (Dani), suburbanalison (Ariel), tatasmaslany (Marlyne), unknownclone (Sarah), betchilds (Jasmin), stupidsuburbanalison (Tegan), tatianathevampireslayer (Aimee), novelconcepts (Lauren).
> 
> (Also, those mentioned at the beginning - sorry for my assumption that all of you have phones with Google capabilities. Kinda asshat-y of me, yeah? I apologize.)

Alison’s not been home forty minutes when there’s a knock on the front door; as she goes to answer it, she tugs at her ponytail, hoping to look presentable for whatever neighbor has come to (inspect and judge her) welcome her back. She’s surprised to find not only a stranger, but what seems to be hundreds - some barely fourteen, some almost thirty, some women and some men, some girls and some boys, some beaming and some tearing up.

“Um, hello,” Alison says, taken aback and _extremely_ confused, but always polite. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Maria,” says the foremost person. “We need to talk to you. Can we come in?”

“All of you?” Alison crosses her arms, looking about the crowd disapprovingly. She waves her hand dismissively. “Absolutely not.”

Five are randomly chosen to enter; one of them’s Maria, the others introducing themselves as Shelby, Shelby, Devon, and Natalie. The ones left outside seem complacent enough, chattering about this and that, laughing, having intense-seeming discussions, hugging each other. Alison hesitates, then turns her attention back to the five inside her home. “So, who the hell are you people?”

Phones are pulled out suddenly and they’re typing the words orphan black into Google Images; photos upon photos of Alison and her sisters come up as the results. The visitors’ expressions softened and phrases like ‘television show’ and ‘fictional character’ fall at Alison’s feet. The blood drains from her face, makes her ghostly-looking, eyes huge. Her life - her life’s more worthless than she knew. At least, as an experiment, she was furthering knowledge or something, but to be _entertainment_ and only just -

Oh, God.

“Are you okay?” one of them asks, concerned, and Alison more or less falls into a chair, feeling dizzy.

“My life,” Alison says slowly, “is just a joke.”

Her visitors burst into a chorus of emphatic no no nos, promising that that’s not the case. “We’re not here to make fun of you or something,” another says. “We’re here because we love you a lot.”

Alison’s brow furrows.

“ _Orphan Black_ ’s on every Saturday for ten weeks straight each year. And whenever we see you struggle, or get put down, we just want to reach into the screen and hug you. So that’s what we did."

She wants to laugh; her life’s not only an experiment, but a _television show_ as well, two and a half months of Saturdays. She exists for the enjoyment of others. She has no point - but, no, how can that be true? How can that be true when these people are smiling at her like she has given them something - when they have done the impossible to be here? That can’t mean nothing. She can’t mean nothing.

Alison smiles then, so unprecedented that it has to alarm them to some capacity. "Thank you," she says sincerely, and that chorus returns, a string of _you're welcome_ and _of course_ and the like. Alison can't help but smile more, heart fluttering. She hugs the nearest person, Devon, if she remembers right, and then Natalie, Shelby, Maria, Shelby. They all hug her as tightly as they can, and Alison wants to cry because she wants to trust them, needs to trust them. She trusted Beth but Beth left her; she trusts Sarah and Cosima but they have problems that are so much _bigger_ than her silly suburban issues; she started a friendship with Vic, a friendship more of convenience and a need for companionship than anything, and he betrayed her; she can’t trust Donnie anymore. But there’s something about these people, these kids who seemed so truly happy and excited to see her, who were so vehement to reassure her, who seem so truly genuine.

“Let the others in,” she says cheerfully. “I want to meet them.”

Whether tentatively or unabashedly or somewhere in-between, they all hug her. She makes an effort to learn the names, some of them being: Havi, Ellie, Amy, Jenna, Aimee, Audrey, Clark, Michelle, Steve, Rebecca, Jessie, Sami, Dani, Ariel, Marlyne, Sarah ( _I know someone with that name, and she’s one of the strongest people I have ever known_ , Alison says, and Sarah tells her politely, _We know about the others, too_. Cosima and Helena and Rachel and Beth. She hesitates before tacking on Beth’s name, and Alison can’t imagine why) (She can), Lauren, Jasmin, Tegan, and more. They offer kind words, too, supportive and compassionate.

After this, comes the next round; one by one, they take her hands, take a deep breath before a history comes tumbling out. No past's the same, of course, but each is related back to her by the owner. They also promise she is not alone anymore, say they have been and it sucks and she doesn’t deserve pain like that. They tell her that her presence on their television makes them smile, makes them feel, and they love her for it. They love her. It’s so odd - her damaged clone heart does not want to believe it. But while some let the word _love_ fall from their lips like they know where to find it in abundance, some release it with gentleness, the appropriate slowness, and Alison feels the sincerity, even if she hasn't fully accepted it yet.

She makes sure to hug all of them a second time when they’re finished talking.

The crowd of them comes to be milling about her house, around her yard, and the housewife in Alison panics. This, certainly, will look suspicious. One by one, she goes around, interrogates each girl and boy and in-between human on whether they have eaten recently, whether they've had dinner, whether they need to shower or not. She provides them with all she can. Alison’s concern for what the neighbors might think ebbs away; that was her mother’s thing, and Alison hates to steal it from her.

She hates to do this too, but she has to ask everyone to leave. She says goodbye to all of them, though. They promise, adamant, to call and email. She promises the same , trying not to wonder how she can possibly keep up with so many. That bit doesn’t matter today. These people are wonderful people. They are glowing with humanity. They are real, despite how crazy this experience has seemed, how dreamlike, and they remind Alison that she is real, too. Also strange. Maybe it’s a more a reminder that realness is based on perception; she can tug on her hair and it hurts, she can hug and feel the warmth, the tears on her skin that aren't hers. Therefore, she is real. It’s that simple.

Those are deep-down feelings, though; mostly, she just feels stunned, stunned and grateful.

The last person is a girl of seventeen-ish, long hair, five foot nothing; she lingers.

“Jordann, right?” Alison asks.

“Yup,” the girl answers. “I just wanted to say - my best friend Ellie’s the one who organized this. Not the one who was here - my Ellie’s from New England, but she couldn't make it because of family stuff. She wanted me to tell you that she really wishes she could’ve been here, and that she hopes you realize how loved you are.”

Alison nods. “I . . . I do.” It is a big thing to say; a big thing to experience, no conditions or secrets or genetic obligations attached. “Tell her I said thank you. So much.”

Jordann nods, smiling, and then walks away. Alison’s alone now, which feels wrong after all that commotion. She just stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do with herself. She feels like she’s in limbo.

She glances at the clock.

Oh. Oscar and Gemma will be home soon. She starts making a small after-school snack like nothing happened, but she’s humming, and she’s grinning ear to ear without even realizing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and that my first foray into Orphan Black fanfiction wasn't a horrific failure. Good luck on surviving the finale - I'm pretty certain that I won't.
> 
> \- Ellie


End file.
